


first we die, and then we deal with it

by ArtsyAfrodite



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Children, Daddy!Ian, Daddy!Mickey, Future Fic, Gallavich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich as Fathers, M/M, Other, Queer As Folk (US) References, The Color Purple Reference, fluff?, i don't know what this is really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:52:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyAfrodite/pseuds/ArtsyAfrodite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never saw love like this as a child.  He’s glad Yevgeny’s getting to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	first we die, and then we deal with it

**Author's Note:**

> This is so random, but I get ideas at the weirdest times. The title is a reference from Queer As Folk (US) Season 2.

Yevgeny’s a fussy mess and Mickey’s watching Ian work his magic.  He picks him up, presses his little face into his chest as he strokes the back of his head and starts to hum.   Mickey slowly feels the tightness in his chest uncoiling from around his heart and lungs as the crying dies down and Ian smiles at him letting him know he’s got it under control.  It’s a good thing, because it seems he never does.

Svetlana decided to piss off.  Despite the unfortunate circumstance, Mickey’s still trying to convince himself _and_ others he’s upset about it – Ian feels better about his _place_ this way.

 

_“I can’t replace his mother,” Ian said as he watched Yevgeny take his first, wobbling steps._

_“You don’t need to,” Mickey assured him.  Ian still frowned – in the midst of a milestone and things still felt fucked.  “Alright, you can’t,” he said as he placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder, “but as much as her leaving sucks, he still has you too…not a replacement…just you.”_

_And truth be told, Ian had replaced Svetlana a long time ago – before the hospital and after._

Her son was one now and she’d planted her feet back on Russian soil with Nika, spitting some cockamamie excuse of, _“It’s better this way.   You and orange boy take way better care of him anyway.”_ Mickey knew the actual truth however.  Svetlana and her lover had gotten in too deep with some illegal drug ring and when the Narcs got a hold to the big wigs, names started getting spat.  So before theirs came up they needed a place to run.  To hide.  _So be it._   She was too busy playing decked out wifey to Nika who was steadily building her street cred in the heroin circuit anyway, which meant she was barely around.  Mickey wonders from time to time if he’ll ever see her again, but mostly he wonders if Yevgeny will.

But looking at the way Ian cares for him like he’s his own always eliminates this thought for Mickey, every time.

////

Yevgeny’s in the terrible two’s now, and it’s a marvel how Ian handles it with such excitement, such grace, even when he’s having his own episodes.  Mickey feels Terry buried deep inside his spine when he gets angry at something Yevy’s just broken or written all over, that trait passed down from only his father creeping up the very marrow.  It scares the shit out of him every time, because his kid is only two and already he finds himself fighting back the inherent nature to explode, stemming from a toxic upbringing.  But he promised himself the day he accepted fatherhood that he would never repeat history.  _Never_.

With Ian, it’s bound to never happen anyway.

“Why’re you just sitting there staring?” Ian asks him as he gently removes a blue puzzle piece out of Yevgeny’s mouth.  They’re sprawled out in the middle of their living room floor playing some developmental puzzle game Mandy bought for him a few days ago.

Mickey snaps out of his thoughts, not realizing he was buried so deep underneath them.  He places the newspaper he thought he was reading beside him on the couch as he leans forward and rubs the pads of his fingers over his eyes.  “Shit, didn’t even realize.”  It’s been like this a lot with him lately.

“Something on your mind?” Ian asks.  _Yes_ , Mickey thinks to himself, but he instead shakes his head silently.  Ian smiles as Yevgeny places the blue puzzle piece directly into its corresponding, blue groove.  He thought there were too many pieces for a child his age, but Yevy’s just proved him wrong.  The kid was already a whiz.  “Come play with us then,” Ian says as he looks back up at Mickey, “watch your son be a genius.”

“I did it daddy Ian!” Yevgeny screams before Mickey can answer.  There’s a wide grin on his chubby face, his blue eyes sparkling.  He’s so proud of himself.

“You sure did squirt,” Ian smiles as he rubs a hand through his black hair.

Mickey feels something as he watches Ian spread-eagled on their living room floor playing with Yevgeny, placing the round pieces into the round holes and triangle ones into the triangle holes.  The placing and fitting of pieces is something they’ve done too many times throughout the course of their own relationship, most of the time getting it wrong until finally, the pieces fell right where they were needed.  Now, he finds himself thinking about something that’s been on his mind lately – family.  And not just family in a general sense, but a family _with_ Ian.    

It started when they’d moved out of the Milkovich household into their own place a few months after Svetlana checked out.  It didn’t take long for them to become disgustingly domestic.  They swapped diaper duty, washed dishes, bathed Yevgeny and took turns reading him storybooks before bed.  Mickey would always turn to mush at the way Ian’s eyes lit up and got wide whenever he did anything with his son, from something small like wiping spaghetti sauce off of his face, to something bigger like getting him dressed.  Not only was he good at these things, but he loved doing them.

Mickey had joked one night after putting Yevgeny to bed, saying that they should add a cute, little red headed boy or girl with Ian’s green eyes to their family. 

 

_“I’d actually love that,” Ian smiled, his eyes lighting up briefly before a seriousness washed over his face.  It was as if a switch had just been flipped.  Light on.  Light off.  His demeanor slid suddenly as he breathed out a solemn, “Maybe, I-I don’t know” after a long pause._

_Mickey immediately picked up on the mood difference.  “Ay, look,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist, trying to catch his eyes.  He wouldn’t look at him.  “Don’t – don’t worry about it.  It was a joke, alright?”_

_“I mean, we could talk about it,” Ian tried to recover, still looking to the side at nothing in particular, but Mickey knew the sound of uncertainty and fear in his boyfriend’s voice when he heard it.  He realized right then, his own comment wasn’t really a joke at all._

_He couldn’t have been more serious – or freaked out that he was._

“What are you thinking about?” Ian asks, once again catching his partner in a fog.

“Nothing,” Mickey shrugs as he finally stands from the couch, making his way over to Ian and Yevgeny.  He lowers himself next to his boyfriend who seems to be stuck in happy whenever he’s interacting with his son.  He sits Indian-style on the hardwood floor, places a hand at the nape of Ian’s neck and strokes the red hairs there.  Green eyes look up at him, and Mickey leans in and kisses Ian on his lips.

“What was that for?” Ian asks slightly surprised by the sudden show of affection.

“Nothing,” Mickey answers right before Yevgeny places another puzzle piece correctly.

“Look daddy!  Again!” Yevgeny beams at Mickey.  He calls him just daddy, and he finds himself always smiling at that.

“Yeah kiddo, ya did it again,” Mickey says.  He then looks back at Ian, knowing it’s more than _nothing_ he’s thinking about.  “ _Again_ …” he repeats and trails off as he watches Ian, watch Yevgeny.

////

It’s five months later and Yevgeny’s turning three.  Time flies when you’re finally living.  Mickey’s never been one for birthday parties, but Ian insisted on having something at their place.  It didn’t take much convincing after green, doe-eyes and a pretty persuasive blow job.  Really, it wouldn’t have taken much before that.

Such is the life of human putty.

“Assface,” Mandy smiles at Mickey right before she pulls him in for a hug.  “Congratulations, you haven’t screwed up yet,” she quips as she looks at her nephew sitting atop Ian’s knee, blowing out his candle in the shape of a ‘3’ after _Happy_ _Birthday_ has just been sung. 

Even more of a spitting image of his father, Yevgeny grins as he receives presents from the Gallaghers, unceremoniously ripping the colorful wrapping paper off of each one.  He’s wearing a gold, plastic crown that says _King for a Day_ on it, courtesy of Ian.  She takes in the look of her best friend, so much better, so much stronger.  A fighter.  There was one point both her and Mickey thought he would never get better, even after he was released from the hospital.  The proverbial up-downs were sometimes stronger than his meds.

“Thank your bff there,” Mickey responds as he watches Ian cut a huge piece of chocolate cake, courtesy of Debbie, for Yevgeny.  The slice is way too big and Mickey knows they’re both going to pay for it later when he’s bouncing off of the walls from all of the sugar, but he makes no fuss.

Mandy turns and faces her brother and gently shoves him on the shoulder.  “No,” she shakes her head, “ _You_ did good too.  He’s an awesome kid Mick.  You and Ian are an awesome team.”  Mickey thanks her with his eyes, and it’s understood he’s appreciative.

Fiona then switches on the stereo in the midst of their moment, and the music is soon consuming their small apartment.  Mickey nearly spits out his beer as he laughs at the way Ian whirls Yevgeny around in the air before placing him down and doing this ridiculous dance with him.  He always sees them do stuff like this, but somehow it manages to get funnier every time.  It’s their thing. 

Suddenly, the thought is back.  It’s of family and possibilities – things Mickey never thought he was capable of even fathoming – until recently.  Until _Ian_.  He turns and looks at Mandy, and she catches the look in his eyes, already knowing there’s something looming behind them.  “Can I talk to you about something?” he asks her and she nods, not bothering to ask about what.  It isn’t necessary.

They disappear into his bedroom right before Mickey turns around one more time to see Ian doing his silly dance, and Yevgeny following his lead – their smiles mirroring.

He never saw love like this as a child.  He’s glad Yevgeny’s getting to.

////

Four hours later, and they’ve finally managed to put Yevgeny to sleep.  Mickey was right, after everyone left, the little rascal bounced off of the walls, and managed to bounce off of him a few times in the process.  Ian swore he wouldn’t feed him sweets for a month.  In all honesty, Mickey wouldn’t mind if he did, because the way Ian is smiling as he lays on his back, his eyes fluttering slightly, is worth chasing around a mad Milkovich toddler for a few hours.

“You tired, huh?” Mickey asks.

“A lil’ bit,” Ian nods as he turns his head and looks up at Mickey.  He pulls him down by the collar of his shirt.  “But not too tired to do this,” he whispers right before he closes the distance between their lips.  They make out like ravenous teenagers, the way they used to when Ian first came back home.  Although he was manic during that time, his kiss never changed. 

Mickey then breaks the kiss and looks down at Ian, his eyes wide and expectant.  A laugh escapes his chest, as he thinks back to a night last year when Ian made him watch _The Color Purple_ with him.  Neither one of them had seen it.  Mickey had absolutely no interest, but he was trying to be supportive of Ian, now studying English and Multimedia Studies at the University of Chicago.  It was a struggle, him going back to school after his meds balanced, completing his high school credits.  But he did it, and went full speed ahead after that.

He had an assignment to watch the film and to do some type of analysis – what it was Mickey couldn’t be so sure.  But he remembers scoffing obnoxiously at the scene where the younger sister Nettie, who’d escaped to Africa with a Preacher and his wife, said to her sister in a long, lost letter, _“Something struck in me, in my soul, Celie, like a large bell, and I just vibrated…”_ Mickey remembers Ian being so captivated and elbowing the life out of his ribs when he huffed.  He was cynical and didn’t get it – she was chased away from home by her sister’s abusive, predator husband.  How could anything make her feel this way after what she’d been through?

Mickey looks back down at Ian and it suddenly makes sense.  Almost a year later, and finally, he gets it.

“What are you doing?” Ian asks as he looks up at Mickey.

“Vibrating,” he answers and Ian’s eyebrows crinkle.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Nothing,” he says as he lifts off of Ian and lines his back against their headboard.  He stares straight ahead and loses himself in the peeling paint on the wall.

“Is there something you wanna talk about Mick?”  Ian sits up and levels himself, sliding next to his boyfriend and focuses his eyes on his pensive stare. 

“Actually, there is,” Mickey responds, finally turning to meet Ian’s gaze.  He pauses and bites the inside of his cheek.

“Well?”

Mickey casts his eyes downward and begins to play with the drawstring on his sweatpants.  “I – uh…” he trails off, “Would you…um – “

“C’mon Mick spit it out,” Ian pushes.  “We’ve been together long enough and have been through enough shit where nothing you can ask me or tell me would be surprising.”  A moment lulls, and Mickey realizes Ian’s right.

“I want us to have another kid,” Mickey blurts out, “this time with your DNA.”  No response.  After what feels like an eternity, he looks over at Ian, and the fear nearly suffocates him. 

“I- uh…” Ian trails off.  A lump forms in his throat and he drops his head.  “Why?” he finally manages to say lowly.

“Why not?” Mickey responds.  “And don’t worry, it wouldn’t be until after you finish school next year.  It’s just, the way you are with Yevy – you’re better with him than I am.  I can see how happy he makes you, and I know deep down you want the same thing.  You grew up with a big family, so why not start one of our own?”

“A big, fucked up family.”

“Who you tellin’?” Mickey says and he places his hand underneath Ian’s chin, making him look at him.  He’s frightened.  “Just because our families were fucked up doesn’t the one we have will be.  Fuck Ian, I just want a little girl or boy with your hair, your eyes, just…” Mickey pauses and releases Ian’s chin.  “Just, parts of you.” 

“There are parts of me I wouldn’t want any child to have Mick,” Ian says as he brings his knees to his chest.

“What?”  Mickey’s nonplussed, but when Ian shoots his eyes towards his pill bottles on his night stand, it clicks, and loudly.  “Ian…”

“Don’t,” Ian says before Mickey can get another word in edgewise.  “Don’t even try to make it sound like less of a big deal than it actually is.  I’m not giving an innocent child my fucked up genes.” 

“You don’t know if they would even get – “

“I said don’t,” Ian cuts him off.  He presses his chin into his knees.  “It’s not like I’ve never thought about it.  I have, and I can’t tell you how happy it makes me feel to imagine some little rascal running around who looks like me.  But then reality strikes and reminds me I’m too fucked up.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey says suddenly and Ian looks up him, face twisted.  “Yeah, you heard me right,” he continues, “just, shut your mouth.  I want another kid with you, and I want you to be the father no matter what.  I don’t give a shit if you’re scared, because you know what Ian?  I’m scared too, but when I think about it, every damn risk is worth it.”

“But what if the child ends up…” Ian trails off.

“What?  Being bipolar?” Mickey says forwardly.

“Yeah.”

He thinks for a minute, chewing his bottom lip.  Although it’s slim, he admits it’s a scary thought, but the moment he made up his mind about this, he threw all fears to the wind.  “Well,” Mickey starts as he grabs Ian’s hand and squeezes gently, “first we die, and then we deal with it.”

At this moment Ian looks like he wants to cry, his eyes large and wet around the rims.  He then breaks out into a laugh, which has Mickey suddenly feeling like an idiot.  “That’s from _Queer As Folk_ Mick,” Ian says still chuckling.  “It’s when Uncle Vic and Debbie were talking about the possibility of Michael – “

“Whatever!” Mickey barks as he cuts him off.  “Wherever it’s from, I fucking meant it.”  Leave it to Ian to catch the reference, intentional or not.  It’s his fault anyway for making him binge watch all five seasons one weekend.  “Anyway, the decision is ultimately yours, but at least you know I’m all in for this.”

“Ok,” Ian answers.  Mickey jerks his head back in shock, surprised he agreed so quickly.  He was expecting to badger him about this for at least a few months.

“Ok?”

“Now why are you acting shocked after giving your big spiel?  I said, ok.”  Ian then leans in and kisses Mickey before pulling away.  “Let’s do it.”

Mickey didn’t expect for it to feel so surreal.  He straddles Ian and begins to work his hands underneath his shirt, the red head responding by grabbing a fist full of black hair and bringing him in for a kiss.  Things start to get heated and there are too many pieces of clothes between, so he begins to remove Ian’s shirt before he stops him.

“What’s wrong?” Mickey says breathily as he rests his forehead on Ian’s.

“I’m just curious,” Ian says as he pushes Mickey gently on his chest to get a better look at him, “how are we gonna have this baby?  More specifically, who’s gonna carry it?  I don’t want just any – “

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” Mickey cuts him off.  “We’ll discuss that tomorrow.  Now take your clothes off.”

Ian obeys, but before he can even get his shirt over his head, Yevgeny opens their bedroom door, rubbing his little fists over his eyes.  It’s a good thing he was temporarily blind, because they always try to make an effort not to let him catch them in any predicaments in need of explaining.  Mickey hops quickly off of Ian and re-aligns his back with the headboard, tugging at his shirt to make it look unbothered.  Yevgeny finally looks at them, a scared look on his face.  He must have climbed over his banister.

“Hey kiddo, whatcha doing up?” Mickey asks.

“I had a bad dweam,” Yevgeny says with his lips in a pout.  He was still pronouncing his “r’s as w’s.  “Can I sleep with you and daddy Ian?”

Mickey lets out a sigh earning a death glare from Ian who jumps up immediately and goes and scoops him up. “You sure can squirt,” he says as he carries him to the bed.  Ian lays on his back and places Yevgeny on his chest.  It’s so reminiscent of when he was an infant and Mickey could never get him to go to sleep.  Ian would place the crying baby on his chest who would fall asleep almost instantly to the rhythm of his heartbeat and his gentle breathing.  At three it’s no different and Yevgeny falls asleep almost instantly.

So does Ian.

After watching his two boys sleep for a while, Mickey grabs his phone off of his night stand and sends a text message.  A few minutes later, he gets a response.

_[ **Mandy 11:15pm:** u finally asked him??]_

_[ **Mickey 11:17pm:** yup]_

_[ **Mandy 11:18pm:**???????]_

_[ **Mickey 11:20pm:** why all the ? marks]_

_[ **Mandy 11:22pm:** STOP FUCKIN WITH ME MICK WAT DID HE SAY?????]_

_[ **Mickey 11:25pm:** he said yea. calm ur fuckin tits]_

_[ **Mandy 11:26pm:** awwwwwwwww!!]_

_[ **Mandy 11:28pm:** wait…did you tell him i’m gonna be the oven?]_

_[ **Mickey 11:31pm:** no. but i will 2morrow]_

Mickey puts down his phone and snuggles in next to Ian who reflexively in his sleep, maneuvers his arm underneath his shoulders and pulls him in close.  He lays his head on his chest and looks in his son’s sleeping face.  Mickey knows his brothers will call him crazy for wanting another child so young, and he’s ok with that.  With Ian, he’s be ok with almost anything.  The good, the bad, the ugly.

Like he said – whatever the case, they’d first die, and then deal with it.  Just deal with it.  _All of it._

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been doing massive re-watches of a lot of my favorite shows, Queer As Folk (US) being one of them. What can I say, anything to make this Shameless hiatus go by quicker. I was watching an episode from Season 2 of QAF (I think 2x07), and Uncle Vic said, "First we die, and then we deal with it," when he was talking to Debbie who's afraid of the possibility of Michael getting HIV from Ben. It was a "what if?" conversation. I don't know why, but something went off in my head about Ian being afraid of having a child be biologically his due to his bipolar disorder. I know the whole daddy thing isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I thought I'd write this anyway. Hope you enjoyed. :)
> 
> penprowess.tumblr.com


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